Page 4 of Aspen Heat
"It's not happening, son."
"I'm not asking, Mr. Brownwick."
"My wife is in a wheelchair and needs special care. I have everything I need to take care of here in our home. Besides, we don't have a car."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Brownwick. Get your wife's medicines and I'll get her seated in my truck."
The old man is quicker than I thought as he goes back inside the house and starts gathering pill bottles. His wife is a grandmotherly vision and I squat in front of her to tell her what's going to happen. She's friendlier than her husband, but bossy as well and makes me get some of her quilts to take with her because they are 'irreplaceable'.
I don't mind being put to work. We still have time, but there's another stop I need to make before I can get back to the firestation. When I've got them settled in my truck I give them words of comfort. They seem resigned to the fate of losing their home. I sure hope that doesn't happen, but you never know with how unpredictable wildfire can be.
After about ten minutes I finally find the last cabin I need to evacuate. I look down at my list. Melissa Stone. She's a teacher at the school. I tell my companions to wait for me while I evacuate this lady. I'm starting to get antsy. I need to help my unit.
Because I'm so revved up, I pound on Melissa's door a bit more roughly than I'd intended. There's no answer and I bang on it again. The smoke from the fires is stronger now and we need to be quick. I move to look at the window and see a woman sitting in a couch, holding her stomach tightly.
Is she in shock? Why won't she answer the door.I'm all out of patience so I do what comes naturally. I break down her front door.
THREE
MELISSA
The brute firefighterbroke my door down! The nerve of that guy. I feel my body fill with outrage and I welcome that feeling because up until now I've been paralyzed by the dire situation I'm in. I mean literally paralyzed. I can't move.
"Miss Stone! You need to come with me."
My first thought is that he is a handsome devil, but I'm letting my anger and outrage fuel me and funnel back my emotions towards those feelings. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. It's worse than I thought.
The devil comes and kneels down before me and looks straight at me. Amber eyes look into my own green ones and I'm sure he's wondering whether someone is home or not. I'm starting to believe I'm not. I do a cycle of breathing to calm myself.
This dude broke down my door. I mean, how much is that going to cost me? I live on a teacher's salary, for god's sake. His mouth is moving, but I can't really hear what he's saying. I frown, trying to concentrate on the movement of his lips. Beautiful, full and kissable lips.
"Miss Stone, are you hurt?"
He puts his hand on my shoulder and it sears me. That's when everything finally comes into focus. His touch. His touch is magic and I want more of it.
"If you are hurt, I need to assess your injuries before we evacuate."
Clearly he wants to help me. At least that's what his words mean. Except…he said evacuate.
"I'm not leaving." I say calmly.
"Miss Stone. The fire is closer than ever. I've evacuated everyone on its path. You're the last one. You need to come with me."
Remember that outrage I was filling up on? It comes back in full force.
"The hell I'm leaving! This is my home. And you broke my door."
"Please be reasonable. We're in a dangerous situation; you need to come with me."
My hands are still clutched around my stomach, but if my eyes were death rays, this dude –-no matter how handsome he is-– would be dead by now. Someone comes in through my doorway. Looks like my neighbor Mr. Brownwick.
"Son, the smoke is getting thicker now. Do you need any help?"
"I'm handling it, Mr. Brownwick."
The old man gives me a curious look and just stands there.
"I'm not leaving my home." I practically shout. I want everyone to know I'm not moving an inch from where I'm sitting.
